Matt Murdock's Education at the Blind School
by Errant Kitten
Summary: This is speculation on "Matt Murdock at school for the blind" Under justincbenedict I speculated on Tim Drake/Robin's schooling /s/8898985/1/Robin-At-Brentwood and I've also done a thirteen chapter piece on "Little House on the Prairie" character blind Mary Ingalls's schooling at blind school..Now what for Daredevil?
1. Chapter 1

THE DIRECTOR APPROACHES THE TROUBLED TRIO

"What do you think Dickerson wants, Pudge?" Orvie asked me.

I turned to the sound of Bentley's sigh. "What do you think, Bentley, m' dear?"

"Well, he might be wondering who put the Elmer's Glue in Mr. Athelstan's slippers, you think?" Bentley, the "girl member" of the Troubled Trio, was also the most pessimistic.

"That was over two weeks ago." Orvie snorted. "Dickerson can't—"

"Dickerson can't what?" came the baritone voice of the Director of the New York State School for the Blind.

"Oh, sir." Orvie's voice went flat. Damn it, of course we didn't check on whether the Dick's door was open before we began talking. We couldn't have, after all, unless we'd gone over and felt the doorknob, and then he might've asked why we were doing that.

How much had he heard? Orvie can see shadows in very good light, faintly, but he saw nothing, as he was running his mouth. Bentley and I are totals—totally blind, unfortunately.

"Come in, you three. No the Troubled Trio isn't in trouble just now. Though you've been giving me fits for the past decade, long before I was Director…remember when I taught third grade?"

We tittered obediently. Of course Dickerson wasn't so bad. And Orvie and had known him since we came to the school at five—and Bentley since summer before second grade. But why did he want to see us?

"I wanted to see you because you're good kids—basically, and there's a new boy coming to the school. His name is Matthew Murdock. He was recently blinded and I think he's a little unused to things…

Murdock's your age, fifteen, his dad was a boxer or something, but was recently killed, and Matt is an orphan, and a ward of the state, and will be staying at the school year round, like you do, Rupert, when you're not visiting Orville's family, or with Bentley's grandparents."

Ah. A fellow orphan. Although I'm not really an orphan. My family stopped visiting me or letting me visit THEM when they discovered that I was simultaneously not only visually impaired, but a. fat b. " A snotty genius" (in Bentley's words) or c. a homosexual.

Yeah, it was C. Last thing my father said to me on the last visit when I was eleven was "You're such a little faggot." Ah well. The School's been a good family to me. 'Specially Bentley and Orvie…so, this Murdock brat, I guess we should be nice. Or at least civil, right?

MATT MURDOCK, NEW KID

"So dis is it, kid." Solly Weinburgen, Pop's old trainer patted his horny old hand on Matt's shoulder.

"Thanks, Solly. You didn't have to carry my bag this far, really you didn't." How could Matt explain to the grizzled old pug that he'd "felt" the image of the building, practically from getting out of the car? It was almost as if the wind had blown the blueprint onto Matt's face, he'd smelled the year-old paint…and he was in great shape. Embarrassingly great shape.

And of course there had been Stick…Solly had never met Stick, and wouldn't believe it if he had. It was amazing to Solly that Matt had advanced as far as he had with only Trio weeks out of the hospital…Matt barely needed his cane, he was fetching Solly's cigars, going to the bodega…and then Matt had met Stick, who was even less blind, yet totally blind…

Solly's voice interrupted Matt's ruminations. "Kid, I gotta go. You're by da uh, whatcha-callit dy-rector's aw-fice, an' dat's as far as I go. I don't like school. Ain't been in since I quit thoid grade when I was twelve, but it still gives me da creeps. Write if you need cash."

Solly gave Matt a fierce hug and stomped off, and Matt turned his head, envisioning the stocky old man's strut. It was as if the bulk of the guy, the sweat, the sagging skin—Matt felt it in his face. Very curious.

But Stick had said, with a whiskey inflamed breath, "Matt, it doesn't matter how you have these senses, you'll learn as I have, that eyes are just a fuckin' distraction."

Well, maybe so. Matt turned and knocked on the door.

PELHAM DICKERSON IS RELIEVED

Director Pelham Dickerson ushered Matthew Murdock into his office, and shut the door. He realized that he had to close the door more often so he didn't sneak up on the kids. Orvie, Bentley and Rupert—or Pudge, as he was known, grasped their long white canes and stood up in unison. Polite teenagers, blind kids.

"Matt, we're glad to have you." Young Murdock seemed to be a nice looking kid, red hair, fairly tall. And, unlike the newly blind, he seemed to have a bit of assurance about him. Dickerson was relieved at this—a lot of the kids who came into the School who'd just lost their sight seemed so traumatized.

It was a terrible thing to say, but it was much easier on kids who had been blind all their lives, like Orville and Pudge, or early on like Bentley, who was such a pretty blonde girl…shame about the accident. Some playground thing when she was seven.

But Murdock's had been even more shameful—blinded by acid while rescuing a blind man from being run over.

But hey—as Dickerson was standing here wool-gathering, the kids had introduced themselves. This was good. Frankly, the big reason why he'd wanted Matt to meet the so-called "Troubled Trio" was, they were the brightest kids in the school…perhaps a little nerdy—Pudge was a queer, of course—but they were sensitive and seemed like they'd be good companions for young Murdock, who was some sort of honor student.

Now Matt was talking to Orville. "Yeah, I used to skateboard a little. You can do that as a blind person?"

Orvie laughed. "We have a guy here who does it, and he clicks his tongue to create a sort of sound around him so he doesn't fall—and we have bicyclists, also, although Mr. Dickerson won't let us bike outside the walls."

"Well, Orville, all we need is a lawsuit." Good God. Bike outside the walls. Dickerson was all in favor of courage, but these kids—hubris.

"Do you like to write, Matthew?" Pudge was asking. "I edit what passes for a school newspaper here." There was a pause. "And I direct the Dramatic Society."

"Not very kindly" came Bentley's voice. "Pudge thinks he's George Lucas, but he's like a little Napoleon."

After the kids left, Dickerson thought about a glass of vodka, and then thought about his AA meeting that night. This job could really get to a man.


	2. Chapter 2

TANNER AND THE BOYS GET EDUCATED

"Here come a couple…oh this'll be easy, from the blind school." Tanner said excitedly to Lizard and Bernie. Pickings had been real slim since Tanner's parole from Riker's Island, his ex-bitch had run off with some creep she met at traffic school, and they'd taken all of Tanner's guns.

Lizard stroked his scraggly purple beard and grinned. "Yeah, some little carrot-topped faggot and a stacked little blonde, Tanner. Think we could take her inna alley and..?"

"No, no, fuck no" Bernie and Tanner protested together.

Tanner spoke "Youse is a known rapo, Lizard, and the pork will be all over for a sex assault. Let's just get her purse and his wallet and go smoke some rock, baby."

"Ah, I'm going over to James Garfield Junior High tomorrow." Lizard waved his gnarly tattooed hand, missing a pinkie. "I'll have my jollies then."

Tanner and the boys—really, grown men in their early twenties—came out in the street and Tanner picked up a rock from the curb and threw it at the approaching blind boy, just to get his attention.

And the blind boy caught it! In his hand, as if he were a right fielder for the Mets. But he and Blondie Blind Tits stopped.

She turned, her vacant blue eyes rolling in her head. "Matt, why are we stopping? Are you having trouble navigating? It's new for you—"

She is one classy broad, Tanner thought. Look at them lips. Maybe Lizard is right. Just a little party in the alley after we knock the red-headed kid out.

Lizard came closer and spoke. "Yer stoppin' because you're going to give me that nice pendant around your neck, and that ring, and the purse too…and I think I'll cop a little feel—"

But when Lizard reached for the girl's chest the red headed kid flashed a hand out, without him even looking to the right, and SNAP! Lizard's wrist was broken.

"Goddamn, you see that, Tanner?" Bernie mumbled. "He did it while he was starin' in space."

"Get behind me, Bentley." The red headed boy, still staring blankly through his sunglasses, pulled the girl back. "We have a little clutter to get through."

"Clutter, you little bastard!" Tanner saw red when he heard the word "clutter" His foster mother had called him "clutter" and he'd kicked her dentures in.

Tanner lunged at the seemingly frail boy, but as he reached for the kid's shoulder, he felt a rabbit like punch in his windpipe, and gasping for air, he fell back, blacking out for a moment.

When he opened his eyes, the bad news was, Lizard had been tossed into a couple of trash cans, and Bernie through a nearby window. But on the other hand, the rest of Tanner's gang—the Viceroys—had showed up, and were struggling to subdue the blind redhead.

You could tell the kid was mostly focused on keeping the fellas away from his girlfriend, and his punches and kicks landed—ju jitsu or something. Scrapple, Herman and Mortimer fell hard.

But just as Mortimer got up to lunge at the kid again, the boy grabbed the girl under one arm, and shinnied up a lamp post and—Jesus, was he a circus freak?—he swung from post to post, the girl clutching their canes, and around the corner.

Tanner sighed. Maybe he should listen to the social worker and go to tree surgery school. It might be safer.

BENTLEY IS PLEASANTLY BEWILDERED

Bentley had no idea what had happened. She'd taken Matt on an A Train ride to her favorite ice cream parlor, Chetwolde's—and of course had been worried that he might have trouble negotiating, as the newly blind did, with his cane.

Then they'd been approached by a gang of muggers, and Bentley had been handed Matt's cane and there had been the sounds of screaming and smashing, and Bentley was then lifted up and swung about by Matt…they'd landed in front of the subway, and taken the train home in silence.

Now they were outside the gates of the School.

"What…what the hell?" Bentley asked, puzzledly.

"Hey, we had a nice evening." Matt's voice said with a chuckle in it. "If Orvie and Pudge hadn't gotten detention for Saran Wrapping the toilet seats in the staff bathroom, they would have had a blast with us."

"Well, yeah, but what about those guys that accosted us?" Bentley shook her blonde curls. "I know something happened there, Matt."

"Oh, it was nothing really, Bentley." Matt laughed. "I think those guys had epileptic fits, and I didn't want to explain to the um, ambulance people. Sick people shouldn't mug. That would be a great bumper sticker, don't you think?"

But before Matt could say more, Bentley reached up and kissed him. And then kissed him again.

"Don't bullshit a bullshitter, Matt Murdock."

And then, Matt's voice was a little nervous for the first time in the evening.

"Uh, okay."


	3. Chapter 3

IS MATT MURDOCK PLAYING ON THE ROOF?

"Orville, cease your machinations about the Knicks and hand me a cancer stick, old thing." I said, pulling my parka closed in the freezing March air. The school has recently gone non-smoking, and our old beloved Butt Room is now a (ugh) yoga studio. So the roof, the roof…we smoke there aloof!

Well, Orvie and I do. Bentley is a committed nonsmoker. She took her first puff with Orvie and I in fifth grade, pronounced unfiltered Camels disgusting, and left it to us. And she jogs on a treadmill 5 miles a day! But Bentley still joins us loyally, for shivering and conversation.

I heard Orvie's body turn after he gave me my cigarette, and he breathed in. "Jesus, that's weird."

Orvie can see shadows if the sun is out, but I thought we were alone on the roof. "What's going on?"

"Well, Pudge, unless my sight is failing me—"

The Troubled Trio laughed in grim unison.

"I thought I saw a-a person or something standing on the edge of the roof, but I don't hear anything. Jesus, if someone's over there, they could fall nine stories!"

Puffing away, Orvie and I turned and tapped towards the edge of the roof, Bentley holding my arm.

"Hey, is anyone…uh, there?" Orvie's voice was a little nervous. In a way it probably was better to be totally blind, because you didn't go around wondering if every squirrel that passed was a human being,

I could tell Orvie was focusing hard, trying to discern whether this was a person or a bird.

"Hey, Orvie, Bentley, Pudge, how're you guys doing?" It was Matt Murdock's voice. Why was Matt Murdock on the edge of the roof? Suicidal?

Bentley's voice was hesitant. I could feel the question there. "Matthew, why are you so um, close to the edge? Orvie said he sees your shadow um…up on the precipice."

"I swear I thought I saw your shadow doing like, a flip or a handstand, but that couldn't be possible. But then I am almost completely blind…" Orvie said this doubtfully. His sight wasn't quite that bad.

"Um, well, I am a bit of a gymnast, but maybe I should come off the edge for now." Matt's voice didn't seem shaky or nervous at all. He was a strange cat, our Murdock. Bentley had advised me of the curious interlude they'd had a few nights before with street thugs. Yes, as the Cheshire cat said, very curious.

TO EXPLAIN CURIOUS BEHAVIOR

Matt Murdock stood on the roof, looking at his new friends. Well, their images were vividly clear to him; his face could feel it all.

Orvie, attempting to gape at him with almost nonexistent eyes through super-thick spectacles, beautiful Bentley, and Rupert "Pudge" Smudge, comfortably obese with coal black round sunglasses…puffing at his cigarette.

Matt liked his new friends, and liked the school more than he thought he would. Truly, he didn't need it. Matt didn't need training in being blind at all, really.

The Braille classes were especially useless, but Matt didn't want to invite questions…

He'd discovered that somehow his fingers had developed an incredible sensitivity to the point that he could discern printed letters on a page, that his ears could hear a heartbeat speed if someone was lying; it was almost bizarre…Matt could "see" far more than before his accident.

It was quite fortunate that none of the seeing staff had caught his act dancing and cart wheeling on the rooftop's edge; it might not have gone well in arguing for his funding as a State supported tuition student.

Things were getting interesting. Matt had gone to visit Stick, and the two of them had fashioned an interesting yellow and crimson outfit, with little horns on the head. Something to confuse the lawbreakers.

After all, he couldn't just parade around in his threadbare thrift store sweater-vests could he?

"We're really worried about you." Bentley's pretty voice invaded Matt's thoughts.

"I was just fooling around" Matt managed, and the Troubled Trio began nattering at him to be more careful. Didn't he realize he was BLIND?

NEW STUDENTS

Cedric Hathaway smiled at his younger brother. He and Cecil looked very much alike, both tall and fairly handsome, except of course that Cecil wore the dark glasses and had the cane, and was totally blind.

The Director, Dickerson, wasn't pleased with the way things were going. Cecil had been expelled from two other state blind schools, one for suspicion of drug sales, and the other for impregnating a housemaid; and Dickerson wasn't pleased about having to take Cecil, not at all. Cecil also had been thrown out of the prestigious private school for the blind, Perkins, in Massachusetts, after the suspicious overdose of a fellow student.

But this school was financially a poor one, and Father had made noises, promises he doubtfully would keep, about donating a gymnasium, or a library, or some such nonsense. Father was a lush, a mumbling old windbag, and much of the Hathaway "old money" was gone…

There was certainly enough for all the Hathaways to live comfortably, but the extra cash to have fun with, at least for the Hathaway sons, came from selling various party favors.

"I think you have to understand, Cecil, that we don't tolerate—we have a zero tolerance for the kinds of behavior that have gotten you dismissed from other schools" Dickerson was going on, "And if it were my decision, and not the House Committee's, you would NOT be admitted here. As it is, you will be on probation."

"Sir, I only want a good education." Cecil said smoothly. "I'm trying to make it less of a tragedy that I can no longer see, and I want to be economically viable. Perhaps my earlier poor behavior had more to do with the shock of my blindness."

Cedric tried to hide a smile. Had Cecil altered his records? Cecil had been blind since birth, and this was an all-new con job. But his little brother had always been precocious.

At the last School, they'd been able to smuggle in Oxycontin, Percodan, Dilaudid, freebase cocaine, and a myriad of other trouble…and Cecil had been able to stay a year longer than they'd thought, because of a brilliant blackmail scheme…the School's Prefect of Discipline had a weakness for young girls.

Now Cedric knew there were more than a few wealthy students here, kids who loved the nose candy, the syringes…it helped them deal with a world of darkness. And his little brother would know how to work this scheme.

It didn't seem like there was any fly in the ointment, was there?


	4. Chapter 4

THAT OLD TROUBLE AGAIN

"You seem unusually sleepy, Orvie" I said, as we leaned against the Coke machine in the Student Union. "Is it geometry?" Geometry is just repugnant. Icky Poo Poo.

"No, I'm just relaxing, Pudgikins." Orvie's voice sailed out there. "In a good mood. Happy for Bentley's new crush—her boyfriend."

Bentley's voice snorted. "I don't have a boyfriend. Matt and I are just buddies. Really, you've got to stop with this weak joke, Orvie."

But I was a little silent. Orvie sounded peculiar. He hadn't called me "Pudgikins" since his trouble last year…when he'd had to take a semester off and go to Awareness House. A little too cheery, Orvie was. But maybe he was just having a good day.

"I think Matt's great, I really do." Bentley went on. "But you know, he doesn't seem too interested in dating. Even Pamela O'Keefe flirts with him, and he seems distracted."

"Seriously?" Orvie chuckled. "Jesus, if Boom-Boom O'Keefe flirted with me, I'd rush her to the altar like there was no tomorrow, man." He paused. "I'm in love with her like you have the hots for Enrique the landscaper, Pudge."

Truly, Enrique the yard man had my attention. Yes, a totally blind obese teenage homosexual can smell the pheromones, and after I tutored Enrique's sister for her Citizenship exam, Enrique had given me a big, muscular hug…divine!

And later we'd spent some time in the deserted music-room…Married with three ninos, Enrique confessed to me in his lovely broken English that marriage and gender preference have little to do with one another in his interesting culture…

"Hey, you guys want to get some beer later?" Orvie now asked, breaking into my erotic reminisces. "We can go down to the alley."

"But your counselor from Awareness House said you shouldn't drink any more." Bentley chided. "Didn't you just get a chip from one of those Anonymous groups for a year sober?"

"You have to take it easy…don't be an extremist." Orvie said gaily. "Life is like, live a little."

But was it just beer, I wondered?

IF THE SUIT FITS, WEAR IT

"Well, neither of us knows how it looks" said Stick as he swigged a little Night Train, "But shit, it'll cover your face, and in the words of Batman 'instill fear in the hearts of criminals' right?"

"I guess" Matt Murdock said doubtfully. "It's just a little weird having this headpiece on."

"It's the thing, though—the new style, all the uh, heroes and crime fighters get up like this." Stick had a little more from the bottle. "You don't want some creep hunting you down at the school and killing your classmates, right?"

"No, that's true." Matt said, pulling the mask on. "And it's a great idea…I was a bit of a bookworm in school, didn't play sports, and the kids jokingly called me "Daredevil" so this might really be a good call."

Stick handed Matt the billy club. "This really will work out well for you. You can use it as a cane during the day, and then, when you gotta go into action, you can flick it, and a long cable wire can get you swingin' off roofs just like that other costumed idiot, the Spider-Man.

Got a hook on the end, and everything. Good thing though, that I got you to learn to jump around buildings without it."

Matt was pleased with the billy club. He'd become an expert marksman, and the club could shatter a thug's jaw at a hundred feet. And, of course, he'd feel secure having it in his hand as a cane…he needed the cane to get around, right?

A few minutes later, Daredevil, fully costumed shot the cable from the club, feeling secure as it locked onto a nearby building flagpole on the Avenue of the Americas, and swung off into the air…

MUSING, BENTLEY MEETS A NEW FRIEND

Jesus, Bentley thought as she tapped her cane to class. We did a lot for Orvie when he was battling his addiction…we even gave up smoking pot!

Never a cigarette smoker, Bentley had happily hit the bong with Orvie and Pudge from sixth through ninth grades, but then, after Orvie had been arrested and gone to treatment, Bentley and Pudge had quit pot and only drank beer when they were away from Orvie, just to be supportive.

If Orvie is back on weed, I could start again too…no! Because Orvie wasn't just a pot-head. Orvie was a GARBAGE head—crack, smack, angel dust…drunk in class every day.

And that was why Pudge and I quit everything with him…just to keep our old friend straight!

We didn't go clubbing, we avoided parties that might be too much fun, and now the S.O.B. may be dabbling again. And how?

Orvie's family and old friends were fifty miles away in Ithaca, and he rarely left the school without Bentley and Pudge…the drug dealer that had been at the school before had graduated. Who was the new dope-man?

"Hey there…" Bentley turned her head towards the masculine voice interrupting her thoughts, just outside her French Conversation and Composition class.

"You're Bentley Collins, right? The showoff who conjugates " je suis alle?" Made me look bad"

Oooh, Southern accent. Bentley LIKE. "Uh, well, if you can't stand the Parisian heat…"

"I'll catch up." They shook hands. You could tell he was tall. "I'm Cecil Hathaway. Been here about three weeks."

"Well, welcome to the stockade then. I've been here for nearly nine years. It'll change you."

"School's the same everywhere, I guess. I started at Perkins, the big, popular blink school, and then got sick of it in eighth grade, and tried a couple of state schools."

"You got sick of Perkins? Shit, if my parents could've afforded it…"

"Well, that's the thing, Bentley, there was all this elitism. I hated that."

"What a refreshing attitude, Mr. Hathaway."


	5. Chapter 5

BUSINESS BEGINS IN EARNEST

Cecil heard a knock at the attic door. "One of you check on that, will you?" Cecil's lieutenants were crazed triplets, Brahmin, Druid and Clarence, who had been raised on an anti-vaccination commune and were blind because of the untreated measles.

Semiliterate fifteen year olds, Druid was the undisputed leader, as he was the brightest, and also the largest…known as "the Enforcer" and the despair of the School administration. Dru and his brothers were overjoyed to work for Cecil, as they had been weaned on narcotics and other drugs from their cult hippie parents.

"It's Orvie again." Dru's voice came right behind where Cecil was in the corner, rolling joints laced with PCP. "He wants more rock, but he doesn't have any money."

Cecil rose, and picked up his cane, tapping it towards Orvie's whining voice. Orvie was overextended already, his allowance was promised for the next six weeks. Orvie had also pawned his guitar, and his Marshall speakers, sold his amplifier and his Ipad, and given Cecil his leather jacket, his season Knicks tickets and the Braille Rolex he'd gotten from his grand-dad, Orville the First.

"I just…I can't study because I'm too depressed, and then I can't wake up."

"It's no wonder, Orvie old man." Cecil said as he tapped Brahmin's arm as a signal of dismissal. "You're waking up with Dexies, going to sleep with Seconal, and freebasing all day. You really should calm down a little bit."

"But…you said it wouldn't be a big deal if I started using again. You gave me a little bit for free, because we were friends, getting stoned together."

Actually, Cecil had taken advantage of Orvie's blindness. Cecil didn't get stoned at all. He hadn't even smoked pot since seventh grade. What a waste! But he could sit with any idiot and talk in mumbled sentences.

"Orvie, you have a Work-Study job in Dr. Camlich's office, don't you?"

"The Geometry teacher? Yes, because I'm in Advanced Placement Trig now—"

"No bragging, please. It bores me. About the test answers for Monday's Third Period exam."

DOC OCK'S SOCKS ARE KNOCKED

Otto Octavius moved into the Brooklyn Industrial Savings and Loan quietly, feeling his metal arms moving furtively under the oversized trench coat. How enchanting it was to have them re-attached to his waist again.

Insanely, the mayor had allowed the newly minted Metropolitan Museum of Criminology to display the famous six metal arms of the great Doctor Octopus, not a half mile from where their owner was being held above ground in a sunny cell in the Tombs.

How hard was it for me to summon the arms? It only took a few days, and they smashed their way out of the glass exhibit, swinging across the city to break into jail and free their Master.

Now Octavius moved past a red-haired blind boy standing in line to get to a teller's window, and used one of the middle arms to rip off his trench coat, causing squeals from two NYU coeds behind him.

"Attention, imbeciles! I am Doctor Octopus!" Doc Ock's arms pushed up from the floor, lifting their leader alight. Almost absentmindedly, Doc's left front arm plucked an aged guard from his chair and shook the gun out of his belt, before dropping the old man and then crushing the discarded pistol in the pincers.

"Now, I would love to afford myself a bit of amusement by tossing tellers back and forth, or even strangling the comely loan officer over there, but if I can get the non dye-packed cash immediately, we can work together!"

Doctor Octopus smiled with great pride as the weeping tellers began going into the vault and bringing out sacks of cash. It was so simple, really. Darwin said it best about the strong surviving.

It had taken Otto Octavius years to become strong. He'd been bullied as a student, beaten by his blue-collar father, and then, as a scientist, his inventions had been laughed at, as had much of his work—until he'd had the accident that had given him power over these glorious arms.

True, the infuriating Spider-Man had ensured that most of the last few years had been jailed ones for the good Doctor…but now things would be different because—

No, not another costumed impudent. But there he was, in a yellow bodysuit with horns.

"I am not sure who you intend to imitate, young man." Doctor Octopus said, irritatedly. "But I would suggest you save yourself some—"But the villain's speech was interrupted by a billy club to the jaw, shot from the impudent horn-head's able wrist.

Recovering quickly, Doctor Octopus forgot the robbery in progress, as he used his long metal arms to propel himself towards the new invader. Swinging the arm closes to his head at the yellow garbed vigilante, Octopus was distressed as it failed to connect with the young man's jaw, he seemed to bounce his chin just out of the way, with an almost radar like ability.

PEGGY AND NORMAN DISCUSS THEIR OPTIONS

Peggy Fitzgerald, two years out of Kingstown Business College, cowered under the desk as she watched the tri armed lunatic wrestling with the dude in the yellow tights. She looked over, and Norman Fishbein, a loan officer, was moving along on his hands and knees.

"Are you okay, Peggy?" Norman asked, as Doctor Octopus picked up a file cabinet with two of his powerful metal arms and tossed it at Horn-Boy.

"I'm-I'm trying, Norman. " Peggy winced as the file cabinet crashed on the far wall of the bank. Old Stanhope Michelmaus, the ancient bank guard looked as if he was going to have a heart attack.

"I guess you should just stay under the desk, and I'll crawl in front of it, to make sure nothing hits you." Norman said heroically, but Peggy could tell he was sweating bullets.

"Norman, did you tell your wife about us yet?" Peggy asked, gazing warily as Doctor Octopus's metal arms grabbed at the yellow avenger futilely. Peggy noticed that the unnamed super-hero had a nice butt.

"Do-do you really think we should be talking about that NOW?" Norman asked, ducking as there was another crash of furniture. "I mean, our lives are in danger here, Peg."

"I know, Norman, but that's the whole point. We've been having this thing at the Ramada Inn twice a week for the last six months, and you keep telling me you'll leave Arlene—"

Peggy's complaint was interrupted as Doctor Octopus lifted the desk that was shielding her and began swinging it around and towards the gold clad adventurer.

Norman grabbed Peggy and they ran for the teller's cages.

But, as they ran, she screamed "You have to tell Arlene, or I'm breaking it off—"

"But Peggy, life is short!" They ducked behind the teller's cages and listened to more smashing. Suddenly Doctor Octopus shouted—

"I am leaving! Without the money! But be assured, you interloper, that you have not heard the last of Doctor Octopus!"

"Life is short, exactly, Norman!" Peggy said firmly. "Why can't you be more like the horn-head guy…he's a trooper!"

"Peggy, the guy's unreal!"

"Yeah? Then why did Doctor Octopus leave?"


	6. Chapter 6

CECIL IS A CHARM MACHINE

"The guy's a tool" Cecil said to Bentley lazily, as they smoked cigarettes on the roof. "So I forgot my homework, and he wants me to do it twice? What kind of shit is that?"

" is a little hard to deal with, but he has an old fashioned idea about teaching, and a bit of a language barrier." Bentley laughed. "Once he went to a counseling session with Orvie and his dad, and said "Your son called me an ass-HOLE" with the emphasis on "hole" and even Orville Senior, who is kinda strict, burst out laughing."

Cecil was meditative. "I had a teacher at the Missouri School for the Blind; he slapped me—had the NERVE to hit me on the shoulder, not that hard."

"Oh God, did you report him for it?" Bentley asked, quivering. "That's illegal, like paddling, right?"

"Better." Cecil said, with a grin. "I paid ten of my classmates twenty bucks each—this was third grade, so that was a lot for them—to say that Mr. Grobler had attempted to molest them…I coached my so-called "peers" in how to say it right,

And we got him fired."

Cecil laughed so hard that he almost swallowed his cigarette, and Bentley shivered, although it was an unusually warm night.

Then Cecil continued: "And the teachers all knew I was behind it, and I ruled the school for a year or two before my dad was transferred to the East Coast again, and I had to transfer to Perkins, where the staff was a lot more up on the draw, if you know what I mean."

Bentley was a little shocked, but casually holding Cecil's bicep was invigorating, to say the least. She really should bring up the other issue.

"Cecil, I know you don't mean to, but my friend Pudge said you've been punching and kicking him and some of the other um—"

"The faggots? " There was a laugh. "It's really a drag having so many queers at this school though…I know it's New York, but…I feel violated, Bentley, in the bathrooms and the locker room. I think they're checking me out, these queers."

"But they're BLIND." Bentley said earnestly. "Pudge is my best friend, sweetie. Couldn't you just leave him alone? I can't believe that you're such a bully—you are so sweet with me."

Suddenly there was a new voice, startling both Bentley and Cecil, who had quite attuned ears to approaching people…

"Yeah, he's sweet with you, but he's sleeping with your best girlfriend Judy, along with one of the housemaids. I believe Cecil here was expelled from the blind school in Eugene, Oregon for impregnating a housekeeper, or was it a retarded dishwasher?"

"Murdock, mind your goddamned business." Cecil said. "I was having a private conversation with Bentley, who is the only woman I'm dating."

He called me a WOMAN, Bentley thought in glee. Judy was a slut anyhow.

But then there was silence. Where was Matt? Cecil couldn't have scared him off, Bentley had seen Matt kick serious gangster ASS.

MATT IS DISTRACTED

Vaulting over the side of the building, Matt Murdock landed lightly on a flagpole, where he quickly divested himself of the street clothes. He'd felt some kind of violence down in the alley, and he needed to attend to this. And now he was in the "Daredevil" costume.

Daredevil used the cord from his billy club to create a way to lower himself, and he moved to the alley, where his sensitive ears heard some troubling info.

"You owe us (BAM!) And you're going to pay. You can't buy rock on credit no more, dumbass!"

"Please, Brahmin…" It was a girl's voice. Daredevil recognized it from his PreCalculus class. She couldn't be more than fourteen! "Please tell Cecil I'm getting my allowance next week, or if he wants, I can please him in another way."

Jesus. Cecil the student here at the school? The tool up on the roof, was he selling drugs? Cocaine, no less.

"And your roommate, she borrowed a hundred from Cecil an' she owes seventy-five in vigorish." Brahmin's voice came again. "I might take out one of your teeth for her misbehavior."

"But it's not my fault that Gazelle is late with her payment. It was for books, I think." This girl was sobbing.

Sweet Jesus. Dad had to collect for the Mob for a time when he was between fights. This Cecil was running a money lending business, and he sold drugs, and beat up homosexuals…and Daredevil was going after Doctor Octopus? There were far more serious problems here at the school.

Daredevil walked into the alley, and sensed the shape of two hulking figures holding a smaller one affected his facial vision. The boys, blind students, obviously couldn't see him, nor could the girl, so DD just silently moved behind the thugs, and quickly cracked their loan-shark heads together HARD, so they were in unconsciousness.

But before he could remonstrate with the girl, she screamed, grabbed her cane, and tapped out of the alley.

What to do with the putative loan sharks? Who knows, really.

Daredevil shrugged, and climbed up the side of the building, wondering if life ever was sweet anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

OH, WHAT FRESH HELL IS THIS?

Director Pelham Dickerson rubbed his head, trying to look patiently at concerned parents Pagan and Lotus O'Neill. I should have studied for the MCATS. I could have been a radiologist right now.

"I'm so sorry your sons were severely injured in the alley. But it did seem like there were circumstances—"

"Dude, I can't handle this…Dru told me that he and his brother were AMBUSHED, man. And I think Brahmin has a fractured skull from having their heads slammed together."

Director Dickerson was always a bit taken aback by silver haired men who called him "dude" One of the glories and comforts of mid life should be abandoning the grammar skills of a fourteen-year old.

"But oddly, they were not robbed, Mr. O'Neill. It seemed like some sort of physical altercation with possible personal animus, and frankly, your sons have had a somewhat checkered past at the School. Brahmin is on academic probation—"

"I hope that'll be expunged now that he's a goddamn punching bag in the streets around this place. In addition to being blind, all three of my sons are learning disabled—"This from Mrs. Lotus O'Neill.

Truly, Druid wasn't "disabled" just lazy, but the other two were either disabled or stupid…but Dickerson had to at least attempt diplomacy.

THE TROUBLED THREE CONSIDER THE PROBLEM

"It's true; I am now in deep-shit debt with Cecil." Orvie's voice came disconsolately. "I don't want to get in as much trouble as last time—remember, I emptied my baby sister's bank account?"

And "borrowed" the money that Bentley had saved in a jar to go sing with the Blind Girl's Choir in Switzerland, I thought…but who's counting up grudges. I love Orvie, he's made Rupert "Pudge" Smudge's life a lot more fun than it could have been, poor, gay, sightless worm that I am, but it's getting a little tiresome. He'd hit me up, if I wasn't subsisting on a scholarship allowance, and the French tutoring I do for the Second Form brats…

Bentley piped up. "Cecil has a lot of good in him, but he's quite tempestuous. I don't know why he feels like he has to sell drugs, or use non-athletic boys as punching bags—"

"About that" I said carefully. "Thank you for your intervention. I am spared now in the wrestling locker room. I should quit the job handing out towels, but it is part of my um, scholarship allowance."

As if I'd said nothing, the stud-obsessed Bentley went breezily on, "And I think Cecil may get therapy for his anger problems, he's been talking about it."

And possibly for his nascent bisexuality, I considered. I was aware one of my fellow sodomites in lower Fifth form was getting visits from our Cecil, who was quite besotted with him…but Cecil was a machine at this sex thing…poor Bentley.

Orvie's voice came up again. "I just wish I could get high for cheaper, why isn't life more fair?"

The eternal question.

NOT SO EASY

"Don't you threaten me, Murdock." Cecil Hathaway said, sneering lightly as he reclined on the antique Castillian sofa divan his grandmother had donated to his suite. "Go back to the other scholarship brats in the dorm. Whine about my pill-pushing proclivities if you like…"

"There's no way you have a right to fuck up this school, and half the kids, since you've been here are staggering around, stoned, and I'm going to get to the bottom of this—" Matt Murdock was worried he might lose his temper and just begin knocking this dandified drug dealer around his pretty room.

"See, you won't, Murdock." Cecil said lightly. "Your father was an enforcer for the Gagliano family, and as I do recall, they are responsible for a direct hit on Haskell Latham, who donated the Microbiology Lab here, and is—or was a management partner of Latham, Claiborne, Merrimac and Bleecker.

Mr. Latham was paralyzed from the neck down after refusing to give his okay for Gagliano to take over a client's restaurant supply business—"

"My father wasn't responsible for that!" Matt was heated. "He never touched a gun in his life!"

"Can you prove it, Murdock?" Cecil asked, with a laugh. "Do you want to stay in this school long enough to get to college?" He paused again. "Buchs Buchanan, who was Gagliano's chauffer and now is my uh, supplier…he saw the whole thing."

Matt Murdock exited the suite helplessly, amid Cecil's casual laughter.

HOW ASTONISHING

"Not so astonishing." The Jackal looked at Doctor Octopus shrewdly as they stood on the roof across from the New York State Academy for the Blind. "They hide in strange places, these so-called superheroes."

The Jackal dressed much like Daredevil, although his ugly, horn-headed costume was purple instead of yellow. He'd done work for Hammerhead and other crime lords, and given Spider-Man a bit of trouble, so Otto trusted him…to a point.

"He's screwed up about seven of my robberies," sighed Doc Ock. "And then we tangle, and separate at a bit of a standoff. I think a surprise attack might be good. I put your money in the account, by the way."

The Jackal smirked. "Well, if you need any more assistance—"

"No, I think I can take it from here. Why he would be in a building for the mentally enfeebled—"

"Visually crippled. Not dumb people. Perhaps he's a teacher. All I know is, I've caught him ducking into a window here a few times. I don't think he's been a vigilante for very long. Spidey would have noted me tracking him by now…"

After the Jackal slinked off, Otto Octavius scratched his chin with one of his non-mechanical arms, and pondered.


End file.
